The Endless Hallway
by Entnora
Summary: Ludwig must navigate the illusion he is stuck in before time runs out and Feliciano dies permanently. GerIta. Minor mentions of death and blood. [HIATUS]
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to another** **example of some of my earlier** **Hetalia work.** **As of this edit, I have fixed some minor grammar mistakes and reworded some phrases. This isn't going to go anywhere, and please, _please_ do not follow this story. ****Check out my Edgar Allan Poe assignment instead.**

* * *

It was dark.

A looming shadow beamed, smiling innocently. It resembled Russia's, but filled with more pain. The shadow snarled. Why was it thinking about that weakling? He wasn't worth thinking about. A malicious sneer crossed its face, eyes narrowing.

 _You did a good job._ That was only the beginning. The shadow was faithful, and would follow its master's words as carefully as a certain German Shepherd would obey its master. It was good that it was dead now.

It was nice that another trip to the oblivion provided it with information on how to destroy the ones that were already dead.

 _Dead dead dead, what a beautiful word!_

The new one was a good idea, they welcomed it, the one trap that they loved the best. _The Endless Hallway._

A few of its henchmen scuttled around its feet, talking in hushed tones.

 _That would be nice, master._

* * *

It was a nice autumn day outside, and the leaves were scattered throughout Berlin, skipping in the wind. Ludwig stared out the glass door, listening to the peaceful and constant _rat-a-tat-tat_ of the freshly fallen leaves. He raised his cup and tipped his head backward, the taste and temperature of the coffee not bothering his dry lips. He was accustomed to visiting the small cafe with his favorite drink.

Ludwig tapped his foot impatiently, still waiting for his Italian friend to arrive. Where was Feliciano?

Finally, the door to the cafe swung open. A mighty gust of wind blasted into the small space, slightly chilly but still warm. Germany resisted the urge to smile. Feliciano was there. "Ciao, Germany!" the excited amber-eyed Italian exclaimed.

"Why are you so late?" Ludwig asked, eyeing him suspiciously. "Another pasta shop?"

"Pasta is delicious!", Feliciano exclaimed. Ludwig suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, and he winced, his hands flying to the pained spot. "Ludwig?"

"Feliciano, my head hurts very much. Go ask the waiter for ice water," he hissed quietly.

"Yes, Lud—"

"… Feliciano."

"Okay!" Feliciano said, as energetic as always. He bounded to the waiter as fast as he could, and brought him back.

But by the time he had returned, Ludwig was out cold. "Is your friend sleeping?" the waiter asked.

"No," Feliciano responded, his blood chilling slightly. Ludwig's eyes were completely blank, a dull blue color, almost like Japa—Kiku's… but they had images inside of them. In them, Feliciano was pretty sure he saw himself.

Then Ludwig's blue eyes turned completely blank again, like Ludwig was blind.

* * *

Ludwig wasn't 100 percent sure how he got there. One moment, he was clutching his head tightly, the next—

He studied his surroundings and found that he was in a hallway, and at the end of the hallway, there was a picture, or rather, a scene.

A light in front of him flickered, and it turned on to reveal a bruised and bloodied Feliciano. "Feliciano!" he called out, trying to run to his partner.

Feliciano groaned, shifting so that his back was facing Ludwig. "Lud…"

A hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, which pulled Germany backwards.

"Be careful, little country," it hissed. Ludwig felt like fainting—his lungs were deprived of oxygen, and the air was getting unpleasant to breathe in. The hand released his shirt, and Ludwig stumbled to regain balance. He began to run again. The light dimmed, and he could hear Feliciano panting and gasping.

He knew he was getting closer… but then, he tripped.

 _Do not fall_

The words flashed in front of him, and Ludwig's eyes widened. His prison in the hall was no ordinary place. He felt the walls of the hallway, noting that they were closing in onto him. Ludwig clenched his teeth, and pushed the walls with all of his might. He would be feeling quite claustrophobic later on….

 _Remember the last time you fell? Do you remember? Do you remember all_ _of the blood, and the hateful stares? Do you remember the truth?_

His mind clouded slightly, and Ludwig stumbled around, trying to reach Feliciano. Finally, his foot met the small circular chamber, illuminated by a sliver of golden light. Some thousand feet above, a pebble fell. It hit the ground below and rolled off to a side. If it had hit Ludwig, it would have hurt.

Suddenly, a swooping shadow came out of nowhere, and dropped a shining silver dagger onto Feliciano.

"Feliciano!" Ludwig raced toward the oblivious man.

It happened too quick, it happened too slowly. Ludwig lunged for the dagger, hoping that it would be him instead of Feliciano.

But it was too late. The dagger fell, blood spurted everywhere, and Ludwig dropped to his knees, his hand landing on Feliciano's back.

Ludwig suddenly stiffened, a lump had made its way into his throat.

He shook Feliciano's limp and lifeless body, knowing that the heartbeat wouldn't be there. His heart beat for Feliciano's, it beat slightly faster than it was supposed to.

Ludwig was used to seeing many people die, but Feliciano was innocent. He may had made poor decisions as North Italy and killed many people, but Feliciano the human was innocent.

There were other innocent people out there, too.

From a young age, Ludwig taught himself that sacrifices needed to be made, and people were to die. Ludwig used to be a sensitive nation, but after he had experienced many wars, tears, and defeats (and Germania's scoldings, according to Prussia), Ludwig had finally understood that they were to stand stoic through horrid times.

Ludwig wanted to cry. But he couldn't.

Feliciano's dead body began to jerk up and down, and Ludwig closed his eyes, his face quickly heating up.

* * *

A sudden jolt of pain tore through his body. If Feliciano was dead over there… then… why was he alive here? Relief flew through his body as ran over to hug Feliciano tightly. If he were to be there any second longer, then he would feel dead himself.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano cried, diving for the taller nation. "I'm so sorry… Pr—Gilbert…"

"Wait, what about Gilbert?" Ludwig hadn't heard about his brother ever since... the incident.

"He..." Feliciano hesitated for a moment, and pulled Ludwig's large hands toward his smaller ones. "Gilbert died."

Ludwig blanched, his eyes widening. His brother? Gone? For good? Ludwig wasn't sure if he would meet Gilbert alive again (he hoped to), like the last death. If that was a fake. It felt so real.

"I'm sorry, Feliciano… please take me to the corpse."

If it were a dream, then he were to get out of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**I would also like to note that I'm not a Hetalian anymore, so all of my future updates will be publishing old work I had written for this piece. The plot is a little strange and a lot of other things need work. I removed almost all instances of "Ve~" and tildes.**

* * *

Ludwig and Feliciano rounded a corner, and stopped in front of a tall apartment building. Ever since the—the disaster, as the nations liked to call it, they had spread out from their homes and all gotten living quarters where they couldn't be attacked. However, Gilbert had his own apartment building, because he was then completely mortal… Ludwig blinked twice, trying to snap out of the trance that he was in. It wasn't helpful. Gilbert was dead, never to—

Feliciano turned around and blinked twice. "Ludwig?"

The security forces surrounding the well-guarded house couldn't had let any random psycho enter, that was a fact. They _were_ German and some of Ludwig's old bodyguards. Ludwig trusted them with guarding his brother. They couldn't had possibly let him down.

Ludwig sighed, and gestured for Feliciano to keep on moving.

Feliciano walked onto the limestone path in front of the apartment complex, Ludwig following him. The supposed-civilians at the front nodded curtly, sending a chain reaction throughout the line.

After Gilbert had moved into the entire apartment, he was suddenly quieter (but still had his old ego). The German nation took a deep but shaky breath.

When Ludwig took a step inside, he noticed that the apartment was completely silent. He stared down at the worn doormat, the fuzzy yellow letters spelling out "Willkommen". On the top left corner, there was a tiny yellow knitted bird, presumably Gilbird.

People didn't change that easily. Ludwig sighed again.

Feliciano waved over to the man sitting at the front desk, gesturing at Ludwig and then himself. The man nodded, and pointed to the staircase grimly. Feliciano slowly trudged up. "This is where I found him to be," Feliciano said. "I was waiting to speak with him about you—but there he was, dead. On the ground. Dead, Luddy!" Feliciano choked on a sob. He pushed open the heavy oak door, which had a metal cover over half of it. Ludwig's eyes scanned the room from top to bottom—it looked like a murder scene indeed. The curtains were ripped, the cabinet with picture frames on it was destroyed, and the floor was splattered with blood.

His eyes then reached the body in front of him. He gulped. It looked real. It looked _real_. The thought terrified Ludwig—if it were real, then he would shake Gilbert by the shoulders, to tell him to stop faking it.

There, lying in front of him, was the brusied, bloodied, and battered corpse of his brother.

Gilbert was facing down, a hole in his back where there was the most dried blood around. Ludwig curiously stepped forward, his eyes wide. He wondered if it was real. Black mist seeped out of the wound.

"Wait, Feliciano, when did this happen?" His legs felt weak, as if they were about to collapse. Years of being stoic told him to never show any emotions, never to betray his strong image. Ludwig wanted to cry so badly, to show that he wasn't a maniac, to show that he wasn't a robot who was cruel enough to stand still at the sight of death.

"I found it today, Luddy..."

"Why is there black mist coming out from his body?"

"I don't know, Luddy, where's the black mist?" Ludwig examined the corpse, crouching down and leaning over to touch his brother's hair. It was stained a light-gray, something that Gilbert would have never allowed to happen. A dream came flashing back to him, a fleeting thought of one where Gilbert's hair was coated with ash and blood and dust.

 _I told you you shouldn't have fell_

 _You little weakling, don't you see that this would have happened_

 _And you actually trusted Gilbert in that one dream to fend for himself because you knew Feliciano was weak_

 _So you left your brother alone_

 _When you were running you tripped_

 _And then Feliciano pulled you up_

 _And continued to run on his own_

* * *

"... Feli?" Ludwig slowly sat up, blinking twice. "... what happened?"

"Ludwig," Feliciano sobbed. "You suddenly fell down and then looked like Pru—Gilbert without the blood! Feliciano was worried, he was scared that Ger—Ludwig had ended up like Gilbert!" Ludwig's vision swarmed. "You were on the ground for ten minutes!" Feliciano continued, kneeling down and pulling Ludwig into a hug. He could hear the footsteps of the guards marching up the stairs, he could hear them stop abruptly at the door... one of them coughed. Ludwig suspiciously turned toward the creaking door.

 _You little weakling_

A stoic soldier peeked into the room to make sure what had happened wasn't disastrous, deadly, or deathly. He nodded, then closed the door. Ludwig watched the door slowly slam as he felt something arise from the corpse next to him.

It most certainly was not body heat, because dead bodies didn't emit body heat.

"Ludwig, are you okay now?"

 _And I trusted you to carry out a task_

 _But you were too weak, a_ _nd so here's your punishment_

Ludwig wasn't paying attention to the words that were playing in his mind, Ludwig wasn't paying attention to Feliciano. He slowly moved his hand toward Gilbert's corpse to touch the big and bloodied wound, which was suddenly gushing black mist. The black mist hit his face...

"—LUDDDY!" It had appeared that Ludwig's hand was surrounded by the shadow, and it was being pulled in by something strange, something that refused to stop pulling on his hand. Ludwig jerked his hand back, but it was still getting sucked into the black mist.

 _Take my hand and we'll go_

Ludwig decided that if he was dreaming, then somebody were to pinch him.

"Feliciano, please pinch me."

"Why?"

"Feliciano."

Feliciano pinched Ludwig, and Ludwig's face remained the same.

"It didn't work," Ludwig said, gritting his teeth. Then Ludwig disappeared, leaving a very confused Feliciano.

"Luddy? W-where did you go?"

In the cafe they had met in, a mile or so back south, a confused Germanic nation was rubbing his head, and a small Italian man was comforting him.


End file.
